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Confessions Of A Cratedigger

by The Klinik

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1.
Intro 02:05
2.
Spell It Out 02:52
Well it's the Mefadone Klinik, the M stands for Meticulous Because the hours spent in the record stores is ridiculous The E is obviously for Effortlessly Don't test this emcee, especially when he's wreckin' the beat And now the F is next, if there were two then it'd be funky fresh But there's only one, so we're goin' to the A which is great because it stands for Astounding And I wear this title proudly cuz most of these rappers lousy The D's for Dope cuz the style and the flow And the beats is what you fiend for like a pile of coke It took some time but now we're findin' the O That's that Original shit that makes your mind wanna grow Towards the end is the N, let me say this once again Cuz it stands for No limit, and that's how ya gotta live And the last E for me would have to be Expansion, Everlasting thru the Evils of the weak And I didn't know what to say the K But I'm a King and the ring of it's soundin' great For the L, what the hell, let's go ahead and say Lifted Cuz I stay elevated from the shit that I'm twistin' And the I is for the Indiana life that I live You gotta grind for a little peace of mind in this bitch The last N in The Klinik before I start to finish Would stand for Nobility, cuz ain't nobody killin' me The last I is for the iPhone I learned to produce on That was a couple years ago, I'm still gettin' my groove on The last K is for the MPK 25 So recognize it when I come ya way Mefadone Klinik!
3.
Hook: Get the numbers for your favorite rappers, better start callin' em Cuz it's a fact with the raps, y'all know I'm better than all of em The Klinik stays demolishin' all these cats that are hollerin' And when I'm done your CD's only found in the dollarbin x2 Verse 1 (Klinik): Well let me tell you how it happened, this passion for this rappin' There's no exaggeratin' or debatin' after this track I was born in '89, so that means ever since I've been alive Hip Hop has been in the mainstream, I've always wanted to grip a mic I thought that shit was tight, back when I was a youngster I was an only child, so that meant no sister or brother To give me something, dogg I only had my cousin To throw me some whack shit, look I ain't even gonna be frontin' now He tossed me that Vanilla Ice because my parents liked The Queen sample, and plus I thought the rappin' was helly nice (lol!) Sometimes my mama would get pissed off Just cuz I'd go out in public, my hat backwards just like Kriss Kross They were a couple years older than me But lookin' back I thought those cats were straight up O to the G's The Fresh Prince was the best shit Images of Uncle Phil throwin' out Jazzy Jeff every episode are cemented In my cerebral, shaped me as an individual And for my generation they all know that this is typical I lived it thru Ed Lover and Doctor Dre so whatchu gotta say? Yo! MTV Raps, that shit was phat, I watched it everyday Headbanger's Ball was also on display I got my first skateboard and the guitar is what I started to play Around the time the East and West Coast was poppin' off That's when I realized that this rap shit had gotten soft Hook Verse 2 (Klinik): And Master P had taken over the game And Jay-Z's the king of New York, that's all because of one day (Baby baby!) That's when I had to make a conscious decision Should I continue rockin' with some shit I'm not even feelin'? Like what the fuck is that? So I keep skatin' just waitin' With little patience for some rap shit I can actually relate with School's out for the summer, I'm at my grandmother's crib In the 2nd grade, watchin' BET, thinkin' I'm the shit That Wayans Brother's theme would catch my attention This was before I even knew it was A Tribe Called Quest And by the 6th grade? I played Thrasher's Skate And Destroy It had Award Tour on there so I was filled with the joy Bumpin' Planet Rock, Stetasonic's Talkin' All That Jazz, Primo and Guru knew just How To Get A Rep, so yep I started diggin' on my own and goin' back to the greats From Jeru The Damaja all the way up to MC Eiht Eric B and Rakim, maybe some NWA Slick Rick The Ruler, ladie's loved me like my name was Cool James The DOC, Scarface, Bushwick Bill and that Willie D So put your hands up in the air right now if you're feelin' me I'm talkin' real mixtapes and not no fuckin' CDs I'm talkin' bout before these DJs were spinnin' MP3s Before software there was SP1200s, MPCs Cardboard on the floor and spray cans layin' down graffiti Hook Verse 3 (Lawrence Finkelstein): It all started back in 2003 Me and my homie OD left the studio and hit the streets With a handful of beats, they all said it wouldn't work at first But then they started bumpin' our shit and sportin' our t-shirts Still gettin' no love from them local rap teams Found some real emcees like Justice League and created our own scene Rockin' crowds with a different kind of style Every show we're gettin' loud, puttin' it down, representin' the underground Staying away from them fags making their music for the mainstream Just two gutter kids rippin' shit, so fresh and so clean Havin' people I ain't never scene tellin' me like they us a lot Smokin' and drinkin' in the parking lot Right before the show, sometimes missing soundcheck If you couldn't find us by the stage the closest bar was your best bet Goin' hard like some rockstars, give a fuck if we made it Leavin' blood in different places, on so many stages With so gimmicks and no effects to disperse We give em what we got, makin' sure y'all get your money's worth We were ready for the worst outcome Did a lot of shows and rocked every one And that was just on the first album, stupid! Hook (Lawrence Finkelstein): Get the numbers to your favorite rappers, better start callin' em Cuz it's a fact with the raps you know we're better than all of them Lawrence stay demolishing all these cats that are hollerin' And when we're done your CDs only found in the dollarbin x2
4.
Music bangin' out a dimly lit smoke filled bedroom Speakers vibrate as songs are simply made to wreck crews 33 1/3 revelations per minute Is the speed in which the rhymes that this guy is gettin' written I'm spittin' nothin' but the best, don't make me start again Cuz when I stop that's when I got 45 RPMs I need my needle on my turntable or give me nothing Vinyl spinnin' and I'm grinnin' just like the kid's a junkie Whether country or funky soul jams in which I'm bumpin' Every single genre cuz Sean will never ever stop loving This shit's my life, it's my wife, music my first love Before I ever hit some pussy or got to hit some nugs As a toddler wearing tie dye onesies that my mother And my father got from the Dead show, don't even bother Came out the womb, with Beatles posters in my bedroom So don't expect to hear the same kind of beats as the next dude Unless you, respect the vets who blessed crews Don't step to the Klinik unless your rhymes are authentic or else I'll wreck you Some are too gentle, some are too fretful I'll spit several verses that's on point like a Number 2 pencil I'm heavy like metal and I'm harder than rocks This is the special sort of peril from the heart of a god You can't wrestle it off, I'm like the rebel that's lost And got vengeful in temple with the Devol in which I crossed This is the level I'm on, if y'all wanna get it on I wrote this verse in like 2 minutes then I spit it on a song I'm sippin' Deans and Karkov, while I read the Quran Then I'll skeet on a freak and pack trees in my bong How bout a round of applause, go head and pound all your palms Together, better do it now or else I'll sound the alarm That means the mountain I'm on? Or in the ocean and sea? You're just a fountain or pond, so y'all ain't fuckin' with me So that was 32 bars and now this is 33 I should stop at 34 but that's just what y'all would think That's what the weak would do I'm not the type that likes to bring it to that sorta low, ya know that's why they always say you better Think It Thru And be original, your own individual style That cats are lackin', so they're almost forced to listen to And respect you too, even if the music ain't What they're feelin', but one thing they cannot say is that it's fake And so I hope you take these words to heart You bite your favorite artist's style, but steady claimin' that you're worlds apart Anyone with two ears can hear it And if you're favorite artist is dead? Don't try to say you can channel their spirit! I'm just tryna clear the game of all the whackness Bombastics against the drastic rap cats that's backwards That lack in the departments that's important That's why the Mefadone Klinik is always steady recordin' *Interlude*
5.
Verse 1 (Klinik): Cuz I was born in the weed spot, born in a kief box Born while my mama was blowin' on that green stuff Born just to chief pot, higher than a treetop Seeds not found in my sack, not the cheap crop Police try to eavesdrop even tho they need not to speak The most potentest trees are gettin' blowin in jeeps With Illmatic bumpin', cuz It Ain't Hard To Tell The Halftime for whack rhyme cats is gettin' started now Throw the mic in your face and watch it start to swell Then I kick back, grab my drink, spark an L I blaze the harvest well, and pass the mic to Newt And that that moment's when he handed me a fat ass doob We don't be actin' rude, we act rather kind My attitude is good because I blaze the fattest dimes Now can y'all match the rhymes? Cuz y'all can't match the nugs Most rappers talk a lot of shit but they can't back it up I let the track erupt, and spit that magma flow A lot of lava is droppin' due to a sack of dro Watch how I pack a bowl and sprinkle a layer of kief I push it down so that it's flat, then I'm ready to chief This ain't a game, I don't just play on a beat Everything that I say is a claim I can meet Can all my smokers kapeesh? Because you know it's that deep I splash hash in my Kraft macaroni and cheese Wake and bake with some Trainwreck, end the night with some Irene There's 90 strains on your wishlist and you've barely touched 19 I've likely smoked what your smokin', so yeah I know if it's potent So when you claim you got the best that's when I know that you're jokin', bitch! Hook: We blaze a harvest in a matter of minutes Split cigars, spittin' bars, Nappy Newt and The Klinik A thick jar is gettin' rolled of that import spinach The best money can afford, don't you ever forget it! x2 Verse 2 (Nappy Newt): I got Murderville to Murkside, Betty Jones and Jimmy Fly Swisher shells ready to blow, no jammin' out the bowl That new clone to grow that, harvest time to match that Strapman on the Eastside, stack my product same time Cold cuts with bowed legs, no laugh and I'm next Drop in some Cocalina, bubble pounds to finance Sour Diesel, Trainwreck, Green Crack and Irene OG Kush be superloud, mixed with G13 Superskunk, Blueberry, Deathstar and Spacequeen Fill each one with many blunts, stay blowin' that killer green Blunt, joint, bong, steamroller, vaporizer Hit that bitch like a man if you wanna smoke with me again! Fuck the bammer, I can't do it, I've got that medical supply I don't have no customers, I buy to get high! Been puffin' Herbal Remedy, smokin' up the Wicca shake Holdin' it in until you cough, don't give yourself a break The streets say they keep it, but I'm hearin' there's a drought Pass the hoot to The Klinik and spit about what we about Smokin', blowin', burnin', chiefin' We blaze everyday, it goes double on the weekends! Hook x2 Call and Resonse Bridge: Now everybody say I love! *I love!* That chronic! *That chronic!* I like it! *I like it!* And I loooove it *And I loooove it* x2 Hook x2
6.
Verse 1 (Klinik): So many years of my life, where I was walkin' round hopeless Not knowin' if I was weird or if I just lacked focus Because I didn't play sports when the kid was growing I was raised on Abbey Road, Ziggy Stardust by Bowie Played guitar in 3rd grade, learned Nirvana, learned some Rage But didn't fit in at school, cuz I was on a different page Than these other cats, plus I was bumpin' real rap Before Master P taught you how to m-m-m-m-m-make crack like this Words can't even describe how I'd feel When I put my ol' man's headphones on my ears The turntable spins with the equalizer near I'd spend my time right here, until the night appeared Bought my first record player round 7th grade Mowin' yards in the summer, bitch I'm gettin' paid! I knew with music I would truly never get betrayed I could use it as a tool to never do charades Like these fools at my school that was gettin' played Bitch my crew knew the rules so my clique was straight I didn't understand, neither didn't anyone else Till I saw that dusty record, pulled it off of the shelf Verse 2 (Klinik): Just know my beatpad's a disasterous weapon I've mastered the lessons I've crafted, now I'm causin' armageddon Step up in the session, nerdy dude is your first impression No second guessin', I'm blessin' the buttons when I be pressin' em And spit that venom when I see the stage lit up The type of shit that makes the old man in the back even get up I understand that everyone's tryna build hype But most the little guys is really where all the skill lies I steal mics if it comes down to it Cuz we're talkin' bout my life, bitch this ain't just music, I do this! Groovin' with the best friend I've ever had Who was there when I was mad, lonely, broke, and sad Glad, and happy and every emotion inbetween The main reason whey I even started blowin' trees! Yeah I was listenin' to all of my idols Up in the crib, hittin' spliffs while I was spinnin' some vinyl Young age, blunts blazed once I reached high school Record collection bustin' out the seams, chillin' in my room It'd fuck you up if I pulled out a mixtape That I made in the sixth grade, I guarantee it'd still play Bumpin' The Misfits, Ten Yard Fight, Gorilla Biscuits Like Mos Def, I never fucked with Korn or Limp Bizkit I didn't understand, neither did anyone else Until I saw that beatpad and bought it off of the shelf Verse 3 (Jaecyn Bayne): Look, there wasn't textbooks or courses Or Worldstar with all kind of videos imported No Youtube, no Facebook or Twitter Hell, we barely had computers in the schools we was given I'm tellin' ya, shit's different, it's killin' the game They said that Hip Hop was dead, it's still kinda in pain Force-feeding the belly of the beast, such a feast Unsaturated trap rap and over-basic beats Companies money hungry, sacrificing creativity Searchin' for food for thought, it's snacks that they givin' me Seasoned it all wrong, needed salt but it's ginger-y Ironically, that's what added insult to injury Pimpishly gettin' over, exploitin' the whole culture Snakes'll land the tactic, with the air they got vultures I'm cultivated to make it tho, rose thru the era Where even to touch the mic you needed grip and respected Yeah, I like it how I remembered it Not saying don't evolve, but evolve the beginner shit Benefits of fundamentals, know the basics And 1's gone but the league's still playin' Let's step it up a notch, give the people what they lookin' for That's cool in the club, I smoke to something different tho Ride to something smooth that the radio don't spin to blow I'm sayin' all of this to say I finally get the picture so! *DJ Metrognome commences cuts*
7.
Hook: She keeps me spinnin' 33 revelations per minute I throw another one on before the last even finished Another freak gettin' played in The Mefadone Klinik The one that makes these bitches scream everytime that he hits it She keeps me spinnin' 33 revelations per minute I throw another one on before the last even finished Another freak gettin' played in The Mefadone Klinik The one that makes these bitches scream everytime because... Verse 1: The sweet melodies are pouring out the speakers And I feel like I'm horniest when I be blowin' reefer She's hooked up to my receiver and I keep her there She's got a needle but I act like I ain't seen it there You should see just how she fits inside the groove And how she even seems to get these other freaks in the mood Yeah, I hit it from the front for at least 20 minutes Flip her over, Side B, bitch now lemme continue! I keep my hands off ya just so I can keep ya clean Was lookin' dusty with a bunch of wrinkles on your sleeve I picked you up cuz you were overlooked and rather cheap 99 cents, in other words you were practically free We chopped it up and it was just like a dream Your insides are pristine, yes this is meant to be At least you don't run thru needles everyday Cuz them shits ain't cheap, plus these beats ain't even payin' At this point, but we both know that hard work pays But when we're workin' girl, it's just like we're both at play I mean, sometimes you even need your yellow adapter We turn it up to 45 to get our quickie on faster Keep so many hoes, the main bitches never trip I'll grab a dozen more tomorrow, yeah you know I'll let 'em spin So many different freaks that's in my possession Don't know how many I own, and I don't wanna start guessin' because... Hook x2 Verse 2: God damn I feel just like I'm in heaven Before I even start the session I usually do some stretches I know I'll get down on my hands and knees But at Luna they've got that cratediggin' stool for me Y'all say the dude is cheap, I need loot for booze and trees I usually wouldn't spend this, but this bitch right here is looking clean 15 in the original sleeve Mint condition but that tax is an additional fee Just off of principle I wouldn't do traditonally I'm tryna talk the man down, I said you're pimpin' a G Dude said "Buy everything, and I'll bang ya out wholesale You're like the only one that's buyin' up these hoes now" I said "Damn, you've got all my dad's old freaks So I'll respect you and I'll treat you like an OG" These women talkin' to me and I'm feelin' quite enchanted They might be cougars, but I guess that's what my life has granted In certain circles of people these hoes are high demanded Her physique might be scratched and they still might be taxin' You've gotta pay to play, that's if you want some real action Download that shit off the internet? You'sa cheatin' bastard! You need to ask somebody bout the real pioneers They wasn't cuttin' corners, that ideas kinda queer Looks like you still need to study, I hope this time next year You start pimpin' these bitches just like this guy right here Hook x2
8.
Hook (Creedon): Don't stop the beat We can go on (Baby don't stop!) Don't stop the beat (Don't stop) Don't stop the beat Don't stop the beat x2 Verse 1: Don't stop the beat, I'll make ya stomp ya feet To the rhythm, when I'm spittin', I'm known to get ya out ya seat Bob and weave, left and right, for one common need I flip the jargon, I'm just startin', so please pardon me You know just who it's gotta be, there ain't no stoppin' me Doper than poppy seeds, turn emcees to cottage cheese I know you're thinkin' like "Dammit, The Klinik's on to me!" Shut up before I might this microphone robbery Too many wannabe's, not enough do it properly So when you see me in public step to me cautiously A lot of rappers are bitin' rhymes like piranha's, G To me that shit is comedy, I shall be tossing thee I know you heard me say this on the Rap Odyssey But most these cats out here really can't do this properly I spit this philosophy, as if I was Socrates To the point that whack rappers start hangin' just like apostrophes Why are these rappers appauling me? Simply cuz they're lacking in their artistry Everybody acts like they're of quality When they're a novelty, they suffer from frivolity Mic stand atrocities, my right hand is causing these Rhymes to send chills down your spine, and cause you bodily Harm, it's the charm, and plus you know the flow is probably Better than winning the lottery in this bad economy You gotta stop and see, obviously I'm the top emcee A lobotomy has gotta be what a lotta these people thought I need And I still do, plus your girl's on my mahogany, she's not into monogamy I can't hardly get her up off of me I'm solo now but know that I'm still problem solvin' whenever I rock the beat When I rock the beat... Hook x2 Verse 2: I'll make a chick take a trip to get my growler filled Blazin' spliffs while she's playing with my power drill A sunny Sunday afternoon, got some Roberta Flack In the whip, but she claims she never heard of that? Shake my head and ignore her on the way to the brewery Turn the beat up the 10 cuz I know that's why she fools with me Plus the lyrics are sweet and keep fluidly Movin' to the grooves that I'm producin' till they're booing me Because I've been on the top too long But I'm at the bottom right now, so I keep on rocking these songs And never stop y'all! Yeah don't stop the beat I got you jumpin' up and down just like a wallaby Soon to be a local legend like Freddie and Wes I keep that Hubbard in a country Montgomery chest Come fuck with the best, don't spend your money on clowns Most of the cats y'all cosigning are sucking right now Too many people accept corny behavior But if you say how you really feel then they call you a hater So I take everything I hear with a grain of salt I can't relate to that plain jane train of thought Too many lames in this game, lane space is bought And not given to the ones deserved to claim their props Some had started out righteous but their aim was lost The blame game mixed with change is a dangerous cost Plus too many cats out here are claimin' boss On some Tony Danza shit, it's time to take a loss Now don't stop the beat unless that shit's whack Threw your CD out the window before I heard the fifth track Let's get back to some real music once again The type of shit that makes ya throw your hands up in the air Let's get back to some real music once again Yeah, I think you know just what the fuck it is Hook
9.
Hook: Now put your drinks in the air and throw your joints in the sky And everybody follow with me if you're feelin' alright I'm feelin' alright (yeah I'm feelin' alright!) I said I'm feelin' alright (hell yeah I'm feelin' alright!) Now If your first love is music and you know it's your life Then throw your hands up high, that's if you're fiendin' tonight I said I'm fiendin' tonight (yeah I'm fiendin' tonight!) Ya'll know I'm fiendin' tonight (hell yeah I'm fiendin' tonight!) Verse 1: My fingers are weed grinders Don't leave a single trace of kief behind, yes we higher Than other cats lumberjacks of medical strains max Kick it on a bean bag, pass me some Green Crack Now please believe I need my beatpad and my weedsack A skeetbag that I can freak fast, I need that, like fiends need crack Now react to a blast of pure dope straight from the Klinik My ass will rap laps around actors that get cast every minute Wanna play that role, sell their soul all for an image That they ain't living, ain't that the definition of a gimmick? Tell these cats that they're finished, cuz I'm comin' to get them I sicken women and children when I step in the building When I start up my engine and I embark on the mission Minions of rappers will listen like it was a tradition Like I was a religion, if you don't follow my vision Then I'll continue spittin' until the room glistens with crimson Blood, I'm hittin' nugs, your bitch in her linens Sippin' Pabst Blue Ribbon, cookin' food in my kitchen This the life that I'm living, must be one in a billion Most rappers wanna act like soldiers when they're really civilians, I'm willing To let the truth be exposed, my duty to flow Is crucial just cuz I know most of these crews are some hoes Now that's the reason why I'm grippin' the mic So put your hands up high, now are you fiendin' tonight? Hook x2 Verse 2 (R-Juna): Come on y'all, put your cups up as high as your mindstate Me and Mef increase the rhyme rate, combine and create To make moves on tracks, drink brews and blaze sacks Decap whack cats with the wax Get my hip hop fix over snares and kicks Klinik provides the dose, let's get high and toast To those that past on this mic I blast on Word to cats blazin' up and gettin' their smash on Yo run it back Sean I'm fiendin' for the beat Get my Steve Nash on, my enemies need defeat My ear to the street with a spliff to my lips While rappers just yap about their whips and their chips So I grip mics, fly like kites Put in work, built with the flow, and grow like lights I focused on the lyrics, and mastered delivery Lay a track down, fill up a glass and roll a B Then I vibe on some I-and-I shit Drift in the music, but never abuse it Raw's all I do with this mic that I hold And at my show a J it too just might get rolled So put some drink in your cup and some green in your pipe And crank the raw shit just I'm fiendin' tonight Put the drink in your cup and the green in your pipe And crank the raw shit cuz we're fiendin' tonight, alright! Hook x2
10.
Hook: Cuz this the Hoosier state, motherfucker now do ya relate? We're livin' different plus we're spittin' the truth in your face We dig in crates so we always pay dues to the greats ...Let's put some food on our plates! x2 Verse 1: Aiyyo you know you gotta feel your boy 100% authentic, yep a Real McCoy Yes you, will enjoy the lyrics written, never bitten tho Y'all keep on spittin' all of this and its forbidden so I'm just lettin' ya know that I ain't never been no fraud It's Hip Hop's Great Awakening, man that's straight from the heart I make art by mixing and layering past work It ain't hard to tell that I've mastered phonograph disaster I don't chop samples anymore, I make them shatter On a spinning platter, that's when I put them back together 4 or 5 of them at a time, now match my grind Thinking otherwise is asinine, yes I'm a mastermind I feel I have to rhyme From the daybreak I wake and bake and then I'm spitting well into the black of night And when I see a microphone I grab it tight Praying it's the only thing that travels with me when I reach my afterlife (You have now reached the other side and your microphone is permanently imbedded into your palm. You can never release it. I hope this is what you were asking for.) Hook x2 Verse 2: Feelin' like a 2x4 when I'm hittin' your noggin Cuz the shit that I'm starting's known to leave you in coffins Dearly departed, obviously this kid is the hardest Artist coming out the nap because he's cold as the arctic I'm sparking emcees like hippy killer trees From Oregon to Indy, y'all know my rhymes are never ending Beginning with all of the nuggets that I crumble up In the list I'm never runner up, I'm always number one So what the fuck is up? It's Mef Klinik in the flesh The best spittin' in Midwest, I'm hittin' kids to get your vest Lyrical C4 so no beef no more Pull out your telescope, watch emcees float to shore Broken jaws every time that I grip the mic It's gettin' thrown at all these whack cats I didn't like Cuz they ain't spit it right If you think it's tight and dig it like that, we must be bumping something different, aight? Y'all know this kid is right just like my name was Ken Jennings And you're getting your Daily Double of something that y'all have been fretting Verbal Jeopardy, the dude that leaves careers in limbo This shit is simple so I milk the game like it's a bimbo This kids a nympho when it comes to lighting stages up So those that fake I'm bout to go and take your life and blaze it up Just like an eighth of skunk, you really think I'm playin' punk? We ain't from Philly so you know we always show up late as fuck Gymnastics with these samples cuz the way that I flip them Straight dope shit, got you hooked, The Mefadone Klinik So many different dimensions in which I'm hittin' em with This venomous, the way I'm spitting's got you wishing I'd quit Y'all know this kid is legit, on a simple mission to rip The unlit end of a spliff is gripped while some George Benson just spins On my turntable, not to mention the system's equipped With some JVC speakers from circa 1976! Hook x2
11.
Verse 1: Life is a struggle so I hustle with the strength of an army I'm at the crib making beats while you hang the party I'm writing rhymes at the gig, this is the life that I live But I'm making changes tryna get out of this cycle we're in I'm not meant to be wasting my time, I should be blazing a dime In the booth, spitting the truth with other faded minds I stay aligned and part my life 50/50 down the middle Cats at my job be so fickle If I mention a turntable, they look at me sideways Pull out an iPod, probably mention the Ice Age Oh okay bitch, so I'm caveman status? That must explain just why I spit just like a straight up savage Plus your face looks like a head of cabbage With a pair of glasses sitting slightly off axis You can't grasp this, productions so classic My co-workers say it's older than Johnny Cash when I play my CD, never heard nothing like this before Fuck it, should be used to this shit by now but no I'm at the factory just dreaming about a stage I'm fuckin' up anyone who tries to stand in my way Gimme my check and let me hit the fucking door I've got these records at the crib, you know they're laying on the floor I'll be back next week, I just need some time alone With my MPK, my pen and pad are overloading Blowin' douja out the chillum, I'm willing to share it with ya As long as you ain't Barney Fife or Ralph Wiggums Can't be in a jail cell sitting for no dro I've got these records at the crib, and I can't leave 'em alone Hook: No, cuz I can't leave em alone I've got these records at the crib and I can't leave em alone The reason why you probably didn't see me at that show I dug deep last week, so I can't leave 'em alone Yeah, cuz I can't leave em alone The reason why I'm three months behind on my car note They say make original beats, and I can, and they're cold But I can't leave em alone, no I can't leave em alone Verse 2: Fuck it, I ain't needing this phone Fuck human contact when I've got this stack of this gold Forgotten treasures getting handed down to beat fiends This one is packaged with some glasses that are 3D Believe me, we be deep in the crevasses It's like crack when the vinyl's on my fingertips I've got a couple spots I've gotta use a paint mask You might find a few gems, the rest are straight trash Warped beyond belief with scratches, bent sleeves tho Best believe we don't need those! We ain't rookies, recognize I've been doing this shit for years My pops raised me up right, he said he's proud of his kid I flip thru records like I did when I was 2 or 3 The same way I did going thru puberty The same way I did back when I was 18 The same way I will when I'm in my grave, G! Hook
12.
Hook: I'm sorry if I don't pay attention I'd rather be at the crib where I can play some records Some people say I act straight up reckless But I ain't thinkin' bout y'all, I'm thinking bout my records Don't remember a single thing you mentioned I wasn't thinking bout you, I'm thinking bout my records So if I give off the wrong impression Then please don't blame it on me, just blame it on my records Verse 1: Can you repeat what you said? I apologize, but I didn't hear a lick of that shit I've got music on my mind, so it's useless if you're trying To bring up another subject, producing until I'm dying Hope the crate lands at my doorstep in a safe fashion Comin' after UPS and I ain't laughin' Drastic situations on the daily My co-workers at every job that I've had think I'm crazy Cuz I'm humming bass lines when I come in Ignoring all y'all's bullshit problems I ain't hearin' it, I've got horns in my head From a Demon Fuzz song recorded in '66 Break out the drums, let's see if they fit Lay 'em down, perfect match, best believe that they did I've got a mental library so iPods are unnecessary I keep bobbin' my head even tho nothing's playing ...Crazy Hook Verse 2: I'm spittin' rhymes over records that my pops used to listen to In the booth sippin' brew till I spit the truth Yeah he's mixin' 2 or 3 in the pipe 4 or 5 on the beat, 6 or 7 on the mic Different styles, watch how the crowd gets wild Throw their hands in the air, get down like James Brown (owww!) Make sounds match up on the humble Y'all ain't know how the crates have stayed growing since the kid was a youngster Must have had the ears rooted in my DNA That's why the dude has got beats for days I try and see the way the average person see's the world Every ho I mess with know I don't need a girl Cuz they see the turntable, plus they see the receiver They see all of the records, plus they see all the reefer They see the beatpad, they see the mic stand That's when they realize this is just a one night stand (Oh girl, don't ever try and change him, I already tried, trust me, it ain't happening) Hook Verse 3: Gnarly Kurt Hodgin solo!
13.
Verse 1: Y'all need to dig a little deeper cuz my beats give you the jeepers creepers The heebie-geebies, terror drippin' outta your speakers Nonbelievers really need to step the fuck back We're talkin' crates on crates, you're talkin' racks on racks I'm talkin' bout spending a full day digging thru wax You thought you grabbed it all, just know that I'm searchin' thru cracks Nooks and crannies, on my hands and knees while y'all are standing How many ways do I gotta say it to understand me? It's uncanny how I unearth relics I'm James Chance causin' Contortions are record conventions Dig a little deeper Because I see y'all leaving all of these gems at the record store and I just can't believe it Don't even try and ask this dude about a sample Just know you probably passed it up, you didn't take your chances We're bringing life back to music with a beatpad I'm diggin' deeper than most, hope y'all can see that Verse 2: Life is a record store, I dig it like a garden Keepin' mom and pops in business cuz this industry is starving I can't be bothered on National Record Store Day Touch every album with my fingertips, I call it musical foreplay I don't see no other producers at my spots Either y'all ain't digging much, or I'm doing a damn good job At finding places, it's kinda like I spend twice the time in basements Than y'all do, I saw thru your joints because they're basic I'll check your history and downloads on your browsers And see you ain't got the vinyl, that's how you found it Sample collections from Kevin Nottingham and podcasts That's all trash, the mere thought I need a barf bag You're all fags, turned this game into a hustle The internet has made real artists have to struggle, but We're bringing life back to music with a beatpad I'm diggin' deeper than most, hope y'all can see that Verse 3 (Tha Devol): Keep these motherfuckin' turntables acid tight And when I die, I'll be a DJ in the afterlife And every time I see a mic, you know I grip it tight Jam Master DJ won't you ship it right I can't, wait no more for my DJ to rise I been, on the run since the gangsta took the ride I been, in many motherfuckin' duct tape spots Blowin' off the dust of the god damn crate You ain't never felt no emotion Like when you pick it up and you see it smokin' And my bitch can't love me, cuz she know that I love Going to the record store and I'm fuckin' with hoes Gone head, grip the mic And go ahead and be a DJ in the afterlife Gone head, grip the mic And when I die I'll be a DJ in my afterlife
14.
Verse 1: Okay we're serving this, man made dope, audio splurgin' With the crates, black vinyl in the bag, all sales are final And I'm happy too, doing everything that I have to do Shout out to Lawrence Finkelstein, Tha Devol, Nappy Newt I start forming stanzas right after I craft the loop You can't distract the truth, when I attack your crew Now all my life I've been the underdog like Scrappy Doo But I just laugh because these cats can't grasp the magnitude That's why I grab the doob and flip the phonograph And capture the fattest moments and compose 'em so ya shake ya ass And when I make a track, I'm likely blazing hash Meanwhile you're rolling up a pinner blunt that tastes like trash Look I'm just stating facts every time the mic is gripped I'll likely spit the tightest shit till I decide to quit Combining this with the decline of all the minor kids I know I'll strive and survive, I've only got one life to live Hook: Grippin' the mic is the life that I'm tryna live I can't remind myself how many different mics I've ripped My mind exists to terrorize the helpless wife and kids Of whack emcees who always step up tryna diss x2 Verse 2: Now when my light rays, hit you side ways, know what you might say You've been blinded by my mind, now play the rewind for like 5 days As the times change, I hit with precision, I've got the right aim Survive the ice age simply due to My Mind Spraaaaay My left brain works the right hand with the mic stand A maniacal rap titan from Indiana to Iran The mic stance is known to blind cats I might snap and freestyle about rice patties mixed with Thai Lamb And then I'll stop and try and gain my composure With a sip from this double cream stout in which I ordered I ring Bell's up in Michigan, I'm a Rogue out in Oregon Bout to scoop them up at Kahn's cuz that's the local emporium I'm imperial just like the Russian Stouts that I drink And burn some nuggets that reek, that's everyday of the week If you feel it, the realest, then won't you let me get my spit on And if you don't dig it then you can get gone! Hook x2 Verse 3: If you don't choose to see the truth in me, then foolishly you'll prove to me Don't step up to Klinik, I thought y'all knew that that was mutiny I brutally attack rappers, that's by the 2's and 3's 4's and 5's, talkin' bout takin' more than your jewelry Lyrically? Do you wanna reach you're eulogy? I talk a lot of shit, but I'm really more bout that unity Because if you and me worked together, then beautifully The Earth would be shaped into which it truly used to be I refuse to be taken for granted, my people root for me Because they know that musically it's the dude that be a true emcee Plus I'm producing beats that used to be what you used to see Unusually nowadays, that's why these cats are losing sleep They're taking cues from me, they're studying what booze and trees Are infused into the groove, now what are y'all tryna do to me? Such tomfoolery just shouldn't be making moves on me It's time to musically do my duty for my community! Hook x2
15.
Verse 1: You keep a Budweiser next to your jacuzzi bed I can get my nuggets sent thru a telegram Thomas Edison, choppin' up the lettuce when I step up in the session with my medicine brethren A stack of wax designated for a veteran Mad samples galore, just put the chops and incisions in It doesn't take him very long for him to finish it Yeah when the Klinik is snippin', y'all know the kid's legit A lot of cats in my area actin' hesitant Because they know my age, so I've got plenty years to represent Mid to late 30s style biters try and call me fam You could have jumped on a track when I reached out my hand! A year passes and I'm still droppin' tracks By my god damn self because this rappin' is my passion Other people spend most of their time relaxing The Mefadone Klinik is always letting the wax spin Hook: Turntables, mic stands, JBL speakers Catch me in the lab with samples in my beakers Dope fiends with a beat loaded in their needle If they don't have it then they're probably have a seizure x2 Verse 2: The pelvic thrust is a must at least once a day I split a blunt, fill with nugs and then puff away Hearing a lot of fucks spittin', and it's such a shame It's bout time y'all start to notice I ain't come to play Known to crush your brain, that way you must remain With adjusted aim, I'm from another plane Retrain your mind's mainframe, feel the thunder, rain When the storm starts a-roaring in my rough terrain Now I don't care if there ain't much to gain Sometimes I stare instead of causing y'all a bunch of pain Too many second rate rappers seen amongst the grain Saying they're original, but that's just a claim Now y'all wonder why I smother lames, and here's another thing I ain't never sold drugs, it's just a fucking name Dope beats like a needle in a punctured vein If you've got nugs to blaze, let's put them up in flames Hook x2 Vinyl is final and wax is crack To a dope fiend beat junkie always coming back With a stack even if he claimed that he wouldn't buy none The main reason why his money's always dried up His family's getting him signed up, for some rehab It's been a while since we've seen a cratedigger looking this bad! There's no detox for all the records that I've copped It's in my DNA, my momma blames my pops Months ago I told my counselor I finally stopped She posted a bounty for me at every single record shop But I still got it on lock, with all my sneakery Called up my ol' man for some crates on delivery Happy as hell, over 30 LPs in the mail I've relapsed off the wax, hope nobody can tell My family's looking at me just like I'm a fucking fiend I spent a G on some records from overseas! Hook x2
16.
Outro 04:22
So what exactly is this cratedigger confessing to? I'm expressing to you the lessons I'm professing Thru the sounds that I found that other people forgot All the neglected and detested, left around just to rot I'll never stop, cuz I can't, it's the reason I'm breathing If I ain't home then Vibes or Luna are the places you'll see him I'm leaving nothing behind, known for snatchin' all the gems I'll probably do it again, I'll probably do it again yeah I ain't a music snob, I'm just a music whore Step thru the door and know exactly what I'm looking for At any record store, hope there's a second floor If not I'm hoping and praying that there's a basement RIP to Missing Link and Rockin' Billy's I sit and think with a drink and reminisce of the feeling Naptown's hidden treasures, with gems to precious I spent days in the basement, every day and an adventure I searched high and low, like out in California finding gold It's like my soul is entitled to all the vinyl sold The Final 4, stay diggin' crates till I'm blind and old I probably ought to get some gloves for all the grime and mold I'm grinding more than other cats, they've got their lives on hold Downloading shit off the internet cuz their mind's controlled Confessions Of A Cratedigger was designed to show It's 2013 but I'm still living like it's '94

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released May 15, 2013

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The Klinik Indianapolis, Indiana

The Mefadone Klinik is a producer, emcee and deejay from Indianapolis, IN that likes to get his fingers dirty in the dollarbins and then press some pads and write some raps.

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